Sunday, May 9, 2010

The Nourishing Goodness of Mom

The Bread BasketAs I slice the loaf of homemade bread, then lay it out in a towel-lined basket set in the center of the table with butter placed to the side... I'm thinking will they like it? How is the texture this time? Is it too dense? Mmmm... the smell is wonderful. The guys troop in and everyone slides into their seat, oohing and aahing over the smell, the look, the texture. It's the first thing they place in their plates. As they take their first bites, I'm struck by the overwhelming sense of nourishing them. Truly nourishing them with goodness produced from my very own hands. 
Scroll Bread Basket (Black) (3.3"H x 6.5"W x 13"L)
It was as though my energy was sustaining their life. Sounds strange, but the feeling was inescapable. The whole five-hour process of kneading, watching, waiting, kneading some more, waiting, watching, tending... was truly a labor of love. It was all very enjoyable that first time around. Even today, the process is more love than labor. And the feeling of nourishing them persists.






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1 comment:

  1. Okay, I'm buying. Your five hours of love and kneading, watching, waiting sounds like a deal compared to doing that myself. LOL! I love homemade bread. Mom's is always the best, you know!

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